"Brother…!"
Rukia's broken scream tore across the skies of the Soul Society, carrying a grief so raw it seemed to shake the battlefield itself.
Across the world, countless viewers sat frozen in front of their screens. It was not confusion that silenced them, but shock - the kind that hollowed out the chest and stole even the instinct to breathe. Biakuya, the man who had seemed so cold and distant during his first appearance that many had mistaken him for an antagonist, had slowly been stripped bare beneath Alex's pen, revealing the truth hidden beneath that noble, untouchable exterior.
He was a man who had loved his wife deeply. After losing her, he had poured everything he had left into his adopted sister, even if he never knew how to express that affection with warmth. Behind the rigid posture, behind the almost merciless composure and the frost that seemed to keep the entire world at bay, there had always been a man who loved in silence - heavily, painfully, completely.
And perhaps that was exactly why Biakuya had gained such terrifying popularity among the female fans of the series. His devotion did not shout. It did not beg. It did not display itself for sympathy. It simply endured, carried everything alone, and in the end, gave everything away.
But when Alex decided to raise the blade against his own characters, he showed no mercy at all.
Many fans who had quietly followed the story until now - those who rarely joined the flood of comments and had mostly watched in silence, admiring Biakuya from behind their screens - finally broke. Trembling fingers hammered against keyboards and phone screens, pouring out grief, rage, and disbelief in a storm of messages.
"The best husband. The best brother. Rest in peace, Biakuya."
"He didn't even use the last moments of his life for his sister. In the end, he didn't think about his own wishes. He thought about the entire world."
"Alex, you bastard! Don't you dare leave after class!"
"When Chōjirō and Hiyori died, I actually relaxed a little. I thought Alex would only kill off characters with lower popularity. I thought he wouldn't dare touch the fan favorites. I was way too naive."
"Have you people never read JoJo? When Alex decides to kill a character he created, he does not hesitate."
"Calm down, everyone. Biakuya hasn't completely stopped breathing yet, right?"
While grief exploded across the screens, Rukia and Renji held Biakuya's body, both of them already sobbing beyond control. There was no dignity left to preserve in that moment. Pain had crushed everything else. Many viewers in front of their televisions felt their eyes burn as if they had been run over by a road roller, lowering their heads and crying in silence, unable to keep watching straight on.
Ichigo Kurosaki said nothing.
He simply turned around.
In the next instant, before anyone could even blink, his figure vanished and reappeared beside Sosuke Aizen.
His blade fell.
But Aizen raised one hand with almost insulting calm and blocked the strike as casually as if he were brushing aside something insignificant.
"Anger will only destroy your judgment, Ichigo Kurosaki. It will not make you stronger."
Aizen's smile was faint, sharp, and filled with contempt.
The moment his voice faded, a monstrous spiritual pressure erupted from within him, surging outward like a flood crashing down from the mountains, like an entire ocean being hurled against the world. Ichigo was forced back dozens of meters, his feet tearing through the ground as he struggled to steady himself.
"Getsuga… Tenshō!"
The strike that burst from his blade was more terrifying than any he had ever released before. It was not merely energy. It was fury compressed into form, grief turned into a blade, the desperate will to stop anyone else from being torn away before his eyes. The black crescent surged toward Aizen like a sentence being delivered.
"Very good," Aizen murmured, still smiling. "But a blade without hatred will never be able to reach me."
He was just about to block the attack when a dark green flash, so deep it was nearly black, dropped from the heavens.
At the exact instant before the new Getsuga Tenshō could strike Aizen, that blast descended like judgment from above.
"Ulquiorra!"
Ichigo raised his head and shouted the name of his old enemy.
High in the sky, with one finger lifted and an empty expression on his face, the one releasing that black Cero was none other than Ulquiorra. The shadowy blast crashed down like the foot of a giant stomping on a ball, brutally crushing the Getsuga Tenshō until it shattered.
Even so, the force of Ichigo's attack was not something that could simply be erased. When the two powers collided, the violent backlash of the explosion shattered the black Cero as well, scattering waves of pressure across the sky.
Above everyone, Ulquiorra, still in his second release, felt something tighten inside his chest.
That strike was already capable of resisting the black Cero of his current form.
Ichigo Kurosaki… what exactly did you do in these past few days?
Outwardly, however, his expression did not change. Cold. Still. Indifferent. His bat-like wings beat slowly as he descended from the sky, his voice as emotionless as ever.
"Your sword cannot reach Lord Aizen, Ichigo Kurosaki."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ulquiorra's gaze shifted slightly toward Sosuke Aizen.
"Lord Aizen, Ichigo Kurosaki is the target I failed to eliminate in Hueco Mundo. I ask that you leave him to me."
"Is that so?" Aizen replied with a serene smile. "Then I will trust your judgment, Ulquiorra."
"Thank you very much."
Ulquiorra lowered his head respectfully.
Aizen wasted no more time. He turned and continued forward, leading the top three Espada and Gin Ichimaru toward the Soul King Palace.
"Get out of my way, Ulquiorra!"
Although Biakuya had fallen by Ulquiorra's hand, Ichigo was no longer trapped by the immediate desire for revenge. He knew where Aizen intended to go. He knew what Aizen meant to do. His mission was not to settle a personal grudge on that battlefield. It was to stop Sosuke Aizen.
Otherwise, the Soul Society… no, all three worlds would be reduced to nothing.
The friends he had formed bonds with in the human world. His two younger sisters. Everyone would disappear.
But when Ichigo charged forward again, Ulquiorra formed his lightning spear and blocked his path with cruel precision.
"Why are you not using your mask?" he asked without emotion. "Have you grown arrogant after becoming stronger? Or are you so confident that you believe you can defeat me without relying on your hollow power?"
Ichigo clenched his teeth.
The memories from atop the dome of Hueco Mundo had already returned. Back then, when he lost control, he had nearly harmed Orihime Inoue and Ishida Uryu, his own companions. Now, the power of his inner hollow had become part of his zanpakutō, and he had also achieved a true connection with the two spirits residing within him.
Even so, Ichigo still wanted to avoid using the mask as much as possible.
"Companions, then?" Ulquiorra said, as if he had read the hesitation hidden behind Ichigo's eyes. "How boring."
After clashing so many times, even if Ulquiorra would never admit it, he understood Ichigo more than he cared to. A single glance at that faint tension, that invisible restraint in the movement of his blade, was enough for him to grasp the reason behind Ichigo's hesitation.
"In that case, die clinging to those meaningless concerns."
A spiritual pressure powerful enough to make the entire Soul Society tremble exploded around Ulquiorra. Dark green flames, almost black, swallowed his body completely, consuming his silhouette in a sinister, suffocating aura.
The captains who had been cut down by Aizen and still lay injured on the ground, not yet unconscious, felt their pupils quake.
Aizen still had subordinates of this level?
Ichigo, newly returned from his training, tightened his grip around the two blades in his hands.
"Even before this form, you still do not intend to fight with everything you have?"
The ominous dark flames slowly dispersed.
Ulquiorra emerged from within them.
The third release had arrived.
"Ichigo! We'll help you!"
Renji, who had mastered his complete Bankai after training in the Soul King Palace, shouted and prepared to charge in beside him.
"Don't come closer! Renji! Rukia!"
Ichigo did not look back. His voice came out firm, almost violent, because he knew that if he hesitated, everyone else would hesitate with him.
"Take everyone to Orihime so she can treat their wounds. Mr. Urahara, I'm counting on you!"
At first, because Orihime was human, the Thirteen Court Guard Squads had been unwilling to let her become directly involved in this war. But now, there was no other choice. Her power was indispensable.
Kisuke Urahara nodded in silence.
Using the ability of his Bankai, he temporarily sealed the wounds of the fallen captains and, together with Rukia and Renji, began moving the injured away from the battlefield.
And there, in the middle of a world collapsing into ruin, the final battle between Ichigo Kurosaki and Ulquiorra finally began.
Only one of them would survive long enough to reach the Soul King Palace and face Sosuke Aizen.
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